


i'm losing myself in you (and you, and you)

by Woahsos



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 3+1, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Makeup, Multi, Rated T for language, and then helps the boys w their own makeup, god what the fuck are these tags supposed to be, like 5+1 except we don't have that many ideas, like. yknow. luke wears makeup, literally just so much fluff, long winded monologues about their love for each other, they're all so in love in this, uhh what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woahsos/pseuds/Woahsos
Summary: “Will you let me put this on?” Luke asks. His eyes are wide and pleading, the way they are when he’s really trying to convince them to give him something.Calum’s a little confused. “Of course, babe. You know I don’t care what you wear.”Luke’s whole body slumps with how hard he rolls his eyes, head lolling back from the force of it. Calum has to hold back a laugh, Luke’s dramatic nature never failing to amuse him. “Not me. Will you let me put it on you?”orthe three times luke asks to put makeup on his boyfriends, and the one time they ask him to do it
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	i'm losing myself in you (and you, and you)

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello, thank you to the club as a whole for inspiring and encouraging me to write this fic. it was super fun and spontaneous and also the fastest i've ever finished a fic probably.  
> special thank you to both [mandie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanluke) and [em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayeHunter) for reading over this and checking for mistakes and all that, love you both.  
> also shoutout to [bella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess) because she loves makeup fics and the entire time i wrote this i was thinking "man i hope bella likes this" lmao

**Calum**

It starts backstage before a show one night. 

There’s nothing out of the ordinary anymore about Luke sitting at one of the mirrors putting on makeup. They’ve all grown very accustomed to the sight of glitters and glosses framing his face, even more accustomed to the sight of it smeared and running down his cheeks after sweating it off during a show. Iridescent brushes clasped lightly in his delicate hands is a vision that comforts each of his lovers in varying degrees. Before, when he first started doing it, he’d lock himself in a bathroom to hastily apply it all, hiding it from them; they hadn’t let that stand for long.

No such shame exists in him now.

Currently, he’s humming to himself as he pats a brush full of purple glitter against his eyelid. It’s soft, both his voice and the moment. Ashton had taken a moment to drink in the sight before disappearing to do pre-show exercises. 

Michael and Calum, however, sit on the couch and stare while Michael runs his hands through Calum’s curls, messing up all the effort he hadn’t put in to get it to sit right. Calum’s too busy watching Luke to care, admiring the way the fluorescent lights surrounding the mirror cast a pale glow across his face, the way the pale blue of his eyes stand out, how pink his lips naturally look. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that the embodiment of good, sunny days is real and one of Calum’s boyfriends. 

On off or lonely days, Calum thinks about how he’s been so blessed to end up with three soulmates, all so different and yet so perfect. He gets it all, from Luke’s innocent, childlike love, to Michael’s bombastic, radical affection, all the way to Ashton’s peaceful devotion. It was all written in the stars, shaped specifically for them to find each other and build a life. 

But he can’t think about that backstage or he might cry and Luke would worry while Michael would make fun of him.

He doesn’t get much time in his head anyways when there’s a small thump from Luke dropping a brush and a whispered  _ Oh fuck _ . A laugh erupts from Michael, vibrating against Calum’s back where it’s rested on the older boy’s chest. He’s still snorting a bit as he gets off the couch and heads out the door, presumably to go distract Ashton. Luke smiles at his retreating figure before picking up a small tube of shimmery lip gloss.

This is Calum’s favorite part of Luke’s little routine. The way he purses his lips a little to swipe the tacky substance across them, the little  _ pop  _ he gives after, and the way he purses them again to check it in the mirror, running the tip of his thumb across the edge where it got a little messy. It’s all so captivating.

Calum can’t stay away, drawn to Luke’s beauty like a magnet. Moving to stand behind Luke’s chair, Calum loops his arms around Luke’s neck, hands playing with where his shirt hangs open, and rests his chin on top of Luke’s head, resisting the urge to nuzzle his cheek against the soft curls. 

“Hi,” Luke giggles. “Need something? Or are you just being clingy?”

Calum hums and moves to place a kiss against Luke’s cheeks, keeping his lips there as he says, “You look so beautiful, treasure. Had to come get a closer look.” 

His warm breath sends a shiver through Luke, his hands coming up to hold Calum’s as he turns his head to kiss him. It doesn’t last long, with Luke not wanting to mess up his makeup and all, but Calum doesn’t mind. He brings a thumb up to brush away some stray glitter that fell against Luke’s cheekbones while Luke takes in his fill of Calum.

Eyes flicking from eyes to lips, Luke gasps and startles Calum from his admiration, immediately thinking something’s wrong. But then Luke’s detaching himself to dig through his makeup bag, pulling out another tube of lip gloss, the same brand as the other one but a darker shade, more purple. 

“Will you let me put this on?” Luke asks. His eyes are wide and pleading, the way they are when he’s really trying to convince them to give him something.

Calum’s a little confused. “Of course, babe. You know I don’t care what you wear.”

Luke’s whole body slumps with how hard he rolls his eyes, head lolling back from the force of it. Calum has to hold back a laugh, Luke’s dramatic nature never failing to amuse him. “Not me. Will you let me put it on you?”

Calum hesitates. They’ve all played around a little with makeup or breaking gender binaries; the eyeliner, the nail polish, maybe even the glitter in the video for Valentine were all small steps they took. But shiny purple lip gloss? In front of a crowd of people who will immortalize it on their phones and all over social media? That’s new, it’s a leap. For Calum, at least.

And yet, Calum’s taken so many leaps for Luke, just like Luke’s taken so many for him and they’ve all taken so many for each other. What’s one more? What’s a million more? 

Not to mention the way Luke’s pouting and staring at him, the tube of gloss clutched so tightly between his hands; Calum’s powerless. 

“Okay,” Calum agrees. Luke practically squeals with delight, clapping his hands a little and jumping up, pushing Calum down in the seat he was just occupying. He looks around and shifts on his feet, trying to determine the most comfortable way to do this, before seating himself in Calum’s lap. A soft giggle escapes Calum as his hands come up to rest on Luke’s thighs, keeping him stable. Luke pauses briefly to smile at him and then turns back to the tube in his hand, unscrewing it and bringing the applicator to Calum’s bottom lip. 

It’s weird, not like what Calum had been expecting. Though, he wasn’t expecting much to be fair. It glides on smoothly, and his lips feel softer where it’s on.

“Open a little,” Luke whispers. Calum does. Luke places the gloss up in the corners of Calum’s lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He’s so cute that Calum’s hands subconsciously squeeze Luke’s legs a little tighter, just to release some of what he’s feeling from where it’s threatening to burst through his chest. His cheek is burning where Luke’s free hand rests against it; Calum’s really doing his best to stay still. It’s easier when Luke starts talking, gives him something else to focus on. “You just have really full lips, good for makeup. And I think this color is nice on you, a nice dark purple. Bright, frilly pinks like I wear wouldn’t suit you. They’d look trashy. Unless you want to try them, I’m sure you’d find a way to pull it off actually.”

Luke finishes up in silence, instructing Calum to pop his lips together a little and cleaning up the edges with his thumbnail, his own routine mirrored onto Calum. It might be one of the most intimate moments they’ve shared. Every place that Luke’s touched him is lit up, his body a string of burnt out lights except for where Luke’s transferred the electricity. 

“Take a look,” Luke demands, climbing off Calum’s lap so he can look in the mirror.

And, Calum has to admit it looks good.  _ He  _ looks good.

The purple is more subtle than he originally thought, especially considering it’s only a gloss. It’s just a slight sheen that plumps his lips up a tad bit more. Luke’s right, the darker shade does suit him, makes his eyes darker, makes him look a little mysterious and a little more badass than he is.

Luke’s smiling when Calum turns to face him, clearly proud of his work. “I love it,” Calum says, not that Luke couldn’t tell from how he was checking himself out in the mirror.

Long, gangly arms open for a hug that Calum happily accepts, molding himself against Luke’s body and breathing in the familiar scent of Luke’s fresh deodorant. Pulling back, Calum goes in for a kiss, but a hand on his chest stops him. “Don’t mess up either of my masterpieces,” Luke commands, going for serious, but the twinkling in his eyes gives him away. Nonetheless, Calum obliges and just holds him a little tighter until Michael and Ashton make their way back into the room.

Ashton wolf-whistles when he sees Calum while Michael hollers and whoops, making crude comments that bring a flush to Calum’s face. Beside him, Luke laughs, pinching at Calum’s cheek and cooing. Calum slaps his hand away and looks anywhere but the three of them, embarrassed and elated all at once.

Someone steps in front of him and places their hands on either of his cheeks. Lifting his head up, Michael stands in front of him, eyes full of adoration and awe, filling Calum’s lungs and making it hard to breathe. “You look so good, Cal,” He says and brushes a kiss against his cheek. Ashton steps up to do the same to the other, and then they turn to give Luke the same treatment.

On stage, they don’t acknowledge Calum’s small dip into makeup, but he plays with the smallest spark of new energy. 

**Michael**

Michael’s sitting at the small, shitty vanity in a hotel room trying to apply this goddamn eyeliner. He hasn’t been at it for very long, but he’s also never been the most patient person. 

It used to be so easy to apply it years ago, when he wore it semi-regularly. Then again, that was when he had cared a little less about his appearance and would smudge it around to look more  _ punk rock _ .

Now, Michael has a more defined style, and, while it’s still a little messy and thrifty, he’s trying not to look like an angsty teenager who fights against every sort of conformity. Plus, makeup is mainly Luke’s thing now, and he wears it so well that Michael would look like a mess next to him if he just smudged the charcoal around his eyes and called it a day. He’s just trying to make it a thin straight line across his top lid and in his bottom waterline, the way he saw in a picture of himself from a few years ago.

He’s wiping it away a little when Luke opens the door and slips inside, sitting down on the bed behind Michael’s chair. From his dark sweater to his messy curls, it’s clear that he’s not gotten ready for the day yet, just rolled in from breakfast most likely.

Michael gives him a brief smile before focusing back on the mirror, seeing Luke take out his phone from his peripherals. It’s more intimidating now that Luke’s here, even though he’s not watching Michael and Michael knows he wouldn’t judge anyways. He knows this, and yet, his hands tremble as he brings the pencil to his closed eyelid. As a result, the line ends up much higher and much shakier than intended. 

“Fuck,” He mutters, bringing a hand up to wipe it away for the umpteenth time. 

A warm presence makes itself known beside him. “Can I help you put it on? Please?”

When he looks over at Luke, there’s no judgement, only love and excitement. It’s contagious; everything Luke feels is contagious. If he’s sad, Michael’s going to be sad on his behalf. When he’s happy, Michael can’t help but be happy as well, even if he was in a sour mood prior to seeing Luke. At first, Michael had assumed it was just from being in such close proximity to Luke every day, adopting the auras the people around him were putting out. He eventually figured out it was just his love for Luke attuning him to the boy so well, his dire need to keep Luke happy having a much stronger impact on him than expected.

Which is why he agrees. 

Luke claps a little and tells him to wait while he runs back to his room to grab some makeup wipes. It seems like the longest minute of Michael’s life, the room feeling much bigger now that Luke’s love and personality isn’t filling it.

When he returns, he pushes Michael’s chair away from the desk and stands in front of him. Or, over him is more like it, with legs spread over Michael’s lap, bent over at the waist to get closer to his face. He takes a wipe and instructs Michael to close his eyes, rubbing gently to remove all the eyeliner from Michael’s mishaps.

“We should give your eyes a break for a minute, before they get irritated,” He says, fanning his hands over Michael’s face to dry the area. 

Michael grabs Luke’s hands in his own and brings them up to his face, pressing kisses to his knuckles. Humming, Luke retracts them to run through Michael’s hair instead. “Thank you for helping,” Michael says. His voice is rough from disuse, and it makes Luke smile. He finds that Luke smiles most of the time Michael talks; it’s jarring and overwhelming and so endearing that Michael can hardly stand it. 

“Why’d you want to put this on today?” Luke asks, grabbing the eye pencil and twirling it in his hands, reading through the label. 

“Dunno. Saw a picture from a few years ago, felt like it,” Michael answers. Luke hums again in response, tapping the tip of his finger around Michael’s eye to make sure it’s dry.

Popping open the cap, he says, “Close them.” Michael does, snorting a little when Luke’s free arm rests on top of his head, hand on his forehead tipping it back a bit. Luke whispers a fond, “Shut up,” before bringing the pencil to his eyelid. It glides on smoothly; Michael feels it brush against his eyelashes a bit and smiles at how well Luke knows him, how easily he can tell what Michael wants. 

Once he’s done that, he tells Michael to open his eyes. “This might be a little uncomfortable,” He warns. “Look up.”

Michael flicks his eyes to the ceiling and Luke tugs his lower lid down a little, setting the pencil to his waterline and drawing the liner on in easy back-and-forth motions. His face is so close to Michael’s, so focused on not messing up, Michael can feel his breathing puffing against his own lips. It makes his breath hitch, his hands fidgeting where they rest on his thighs, desperate to reach out and touch Luke. 

But he’s also content just like this. With Luke’s hands resting gently on his face, handling him so carefully, so close and intimate. Michael would wear makeup every day for the rest of his life if it meant he could relive this feeling. It’s a moment he wants to put in a frame, to take out whenever they’re away and missing each other’s presence, whenever he’s craving Luke’s touch and Luke isn’t there to provide it. The quiet of the moment is perfect in a way it so rarely is for Michael.

Luke makes him quiet. 

“All done,” He whispers, patting Michael’s cheek. Slowly, he opens his eyes to the sight of Luke smiling down at him, hands clasped loosely in front of him. Michael stands and kisses him, a soft brush of lips. He thinks he deserves it after sitting still, hands to himself, for so long while being so close to love personified. 

His hands stay pressed to Luke’s lower back when he pulls away, and Luke’s hands stay cupping his face, soft fingertips brushing down his cheeks and across his jaw. 

“You look so good in eyeliner, Mikey,” Luke says. There’s nothing but genuine adoration in his voice and his eyes, looking at Michael like there’s never been anything else worth looking at. Except for Ashton and Calum. But they’re not here right now, which means this look is all for Michael. He must be the luckiest man in the world. “It’s such a pretty contrast to your skin, and it really brings out your eyes. You’re just so pretty.” 

“Not as pretty as you, star,” He says, leaning forward to brush his nose against Luke’s. He basks in the way the blush rises to Luke’s cheeks as he drops his head, bashful to the end in the face of deserved admiration. Michael doesn’t mind, already committed to praising Luke for the rest of their days. “Come on, let me watch you get ready and then we’ll go meet Ash and Cal.”

Luke’s still blushing, darker now, but jokes nonetheless, “Creep.”

Michael rolls his eyes and pushes at his shoulder, then immediately pulls him closer to kiss him again, deeper now, full of everything Michael’s feeling, everything he’s always felt. 

Ashton and Calum are surprised when they finally meet them in the hotel lobby, but Calum immediately pulls Michael’s face close and looks at him, at the way the dark liner frames his eyes and makes them shine. Once he’s had his fill, he kisses Michael, a little too intimately for a hotel lobby but he’s not complaining. When Calum lets him go and Ashton gets his turn, he kisses Michael softly and whispers, “You look stunning.”

They’re all sneaking looks at him through the rest of the day; sometimes Calum forgets to just sneak it and ends up staring until Ashton elbows him in the side. Whenever Michael catches Luke’s eye, the younger boy smiles, full of pride in both his work and Michael’s ability to wear the makeup so well.

Michael walks around all day with his head a little higher, steps a little more sure. 

**Ashton**

Any day spent with Luke is a good day in Ashton’s book, but maybe there’s a special place in his heart for the days they spend shopping. It gives him a chance to just watch Luke, to watch the way his face lights up when he sees something he likes, to see his brows furrow as he debates on if someone else will like what he’s picked. Everything Luke does catches Ashton’s attention; he loves watching Luke’s fingers run lightly over different shirts, feeling the material beneath them and smiling if it’s soft enough. 

Ashton especially loves when they look around beauty stores. He lives for the moments when Luke tries samples, rubbing lotions into his hands and bringing them up for Ashton to smell, spraying different body shimmers and perfumes onto the test strips, opening different palettes and rubbing swatches on his arm. 

“Which shade do you think would look best on me?” Luke asks, holding up two different tubes of lip gloss for Ashton to look at. 

“You know I like whatever you wear, sunshine,” He says, wrapping an arm around Luke’s waist. In all honesty, the glosses look near identical to Ashton. One might be darker than the other. He can’t tell.

Predictably, Luke’s not satisfied with his answer, rolling his eyes and shoving at Ashton’s chest a little. Ashton just pulls him closer and playfully nips at his nose, which makes them both smile. 

Luke looks between the tubes for a moment before dropping them both in their small basket, already halfway full with different tubes and palettes and whatever else Luke has thrown in there. He’d asked Ashton multiple times if there was anything he’d wanted, hair products or moisturizers, but Ashton had denied, claiming that this trip was for Luke.

“That’s what you say every time we go shopping,” Luke had complained.

And maybe that’s true, but so what? If Ashton has the means to spoil the loves of his lives, he’s going to do it. Whether that means baking for Calum, buying video game merchandise for Michael, or showering Luke with pretty gifts, he’ll give them anything they ask for. It’s not like they don’t do the same for him. He has more records and books and journals than he can keep track of. 

Not much later, they’re waiting in line to check out. Luke’s looking at the different travel-sized products by the register while Ashton discreetly pulls out his wallet, preparing to fight so Luke will let him pay. Not that it’ll take much.

Luke catches on much faster than Ashton thought he would, levelling Ashton with an unamused glare. Ashton just gives him his most charming smile.

“Put it away,” Luke demands. He reaches out with the hand not holding the basket to try to swipe Ashton’s wallet from him, but Ashton’s quick to catch his wrist and hold his other hand just out of reach. The people behind them laugh a little. 

“Not a chance, babe,” He says. Luke’s reply is cut short when the cashier calls for them. Before he can protest, Ashton takes the basket from him and steps up to the counter, setting everything out and pulling out his card to pay. 

Luke doesn’t speak to him the entire car ride home, but Ashton knows he’s not really mad because their hands are still clasped on top of the gear shift. 

Any residual “bitterness” melts away completely when they get inside and Ashton asks Luke to give him a little tour of everything he bought. As much as he calls them all creeps for enjoying watching him get ready, he falls over himself at the chance to model new makeup or clothes for them. They know he lives for the compliments. As confident as he is, there’s always doubts about the way he dresses and presents himself, at how different it is from when they all first fell in love. 

The first time Luke had ever worn anything other than the usual black eyeliner, he had almost made himself sick worrying about what they would all think. Worrying if he was too different for them, if he had changed in a way they wouldn’t like or couldn’t get used to. It had taken months of convincing and loving, from both a distance and up close, for him to accept that they love him in all forms and as every version of himself.

Now, he settles comfortably in their master bathroom with Ashton, making sure he has the best lighting to show everything off. He quickly runs through the various lotions and body sprays he got since Ashton’s already smelled them. 

The first makeup product he tries out is a mauve lipstick. He’s careful applying it, bent close to the mirror and dabbing it over his lips in delicate, precise motions. Ashton leans against the counter next to him, watching with a fascination that he’ll never get rid of it, enamored with the thought Luke puts into this, with the joy he takes in painting things across his face, a different creative outlet he’s found. 

When he’s finished, he looks at himself briefly before turning to Ashton to ask, “What do you think?”

Ashton thinks Luke looks like a beautiful temptation, some higher being sent to throw Ashton off and consume him completely. Consume his every sense and every thought, to make sure his focus lies on Luke for the rest of time. But Luke would surely make fun of Ashton if he expressed it that way, so instead he says, “Look’s good, babe. But,” Luke’s smile falters. Ashton just smirks. “I think I’ll need a kiss to really test it out. Make sure it doesn’t rub off or anything, you know?”

Luke rolls his eyes, but leans in to kiss him anyways. He’s only going for a peck, but Ashton wraps his arms around Luke’s neck and keeps him close, savoring the warmth of Luke’s lips, the physical warmth of having him close and the warmth it brings to his chest, the warmth of true, pure love. Luke melts into it, hands resting loosely on Ashton’s hips as he goes pliant under the older boy's touch. They lose themselves in each other, minutes ticking by without a thought. 

Eventually, they have to pull away to breathe. Chests heave in sync; Ashton runs his hands down Luke’s neck, registering his pulse under his hands, reminding himself that Luke is indeed real and indeed his. Theirs. They’re all his and he’s all theirs. 

“We’re never getting through this if you do that every time,” Luke breathes, laughing even as he says it. 

Ashton hums. “God thing we have all the time in the world.”

Still, they get through the rest of the lip products with relative ease and a multitude of kisses. Luke only shows him the eyeshadow palettes, promising him he’ll use them the next time they go out for dinner with Michael and Calum, craft a look specifically for Ashton. Ashton does not tear up at that, no way. 

The next thing Luke pulls out is a circular pan, no bigger than his palm. When he opens it, he gasps a little. Ashton’s immediately concerned, assuming that whatever it is will be broken or the wrong product, already preparing to drive back to the store. 

Of course, Luke never makes it that easy. Ashton’s surprised with how excited he is when he says, “Ash, you should let me try this on you!”

“What is it?”

“Highlighter!” That means absolutely nothing to Ashton, which Luke must know, because he turns the pan around to show Ashton. It’s a shimmery gold, pretty, but Ashton’s still a bit lost. “It goes on your cheekbones, to bring them out and make them pop a little. And this is such a pretty gold, it’ll look so nice with how tan you are right now. Please?”

Ashton needs no further convincing. He didn’t need convincing in the first place, has already vowed to do whatever Luke asks of him. Within reason. And this seems reasonable enough.

Luke digs around in one of his various bags before pulling out a brush with a long, pale blue handle and fanned out bristles. Taking a small spray bottle, Luke spritzes some water onto the brush before dipping it into the pan. The brush is soft against Ashton’s cheekbones, reminding him of when any of his boys are pressed close to him, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks while they press kisses to his jaw. He complains that it tickles to get them to laugh, but it’s one of his favorite feelings. 

The same treatment is given to his other cheekbone and then Luke puts the materials away, grabbing Ashton’s jaw and tilting his hand all sorts of ways, seeing which way catches the light best. “It’s so pretty,” He says.

Looking in the mirror, Ashton agrees. It’s subtle, just a slight shine to his face that makes his cheekbones look a little more prominent. Just like Luke said, the color blends in nicely with his skin tone, making him look more bronze if anything. “It’s very pretty,” He confirms, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek.

Downstairs, the front door closes and the sound of laughter fills the house, completing the puzzle of Ashton’s heart and relaxing him completely, knowing that everyone is back home under his watch.

“Let’s go show them,” Luke says, grabbing Ashton’s hand and pulling him down the stairs.

Michael and Calum are in the kitchen, putting away groceries in between play-fighting. Ashton is so in love. In love with children, but in love all the same. 

“Look!” Luke exclaims, once again grabbing Ashton’s jaw and tilting his head, the sunlight from the window catching and illuminating his cheeks. Twin gasps fall from Michael and Calum’s mouths, both of them pushing past each other to get to Ashton first.

Calum brings a hand up, rests it just under where the makeup sits so he doesn’t mess it up. “You look...amazing.”

Michael snorts. “How nice.”

“Fuck off,” Calum bites back. Turns back to Ashton. “I don't know how else to say it. You look incredible, Ash. Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Ashton whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to Calum’s lips and then to Michael’s. 

The makeup stays on throughout dinner, and even through movie night. When it’s paused for a bathroom break, Ashton takes a little longer than normal to watch himself in the mirror, turning his head to various angles, watching the way it glitters and dances. 

And when they get ready for bed that night, he finds that he’s a little reluctant to take it off.

**All**

The noise in the dressing room is a jarring contrast to the rest of the venue Luke was just exploring. His boys had disappeared upon their arrival, all claiming separate things they needed to, leaving Luke to venture out on his own.

He didn’t mind; it was a venue, like any other, and it was nice to give his mind a moment of rest before the chaos of a show. 

It seems the chaos has arrived early.

Michael, Ashton, and Calum are all sitting in front of the mirror in the dressing room, pressed close together. Looking closer, Calum might actually be sitting on top of Ashton. They’re a tangle of limbs, reaching over each other and bending forward, shouting at each other despite being, like, two inches away. 

The counter itself is a mess of palettes and brushes and tubes, all from Luke’s own makeup bags. He watches fondly from the doorway, struggling to contain his smile. There’s never a dull moment in Luke’s life anymore, always someone talking or laughing or even just living so fully; it encompasses him, occupies his mind without distracting him. In moments like these, he’s more than content to be an outsider, watching the way they interact and the way they look at each other, knowing it’s the same way they look at him. 

“Luke!” Calum calls, having finally noticed his presence and snapping him from his thoughts. “Please, you have to help us.”

Luke approaches them with hesitance. It’s much worse than he thought. The contents of his bags are spread across the desk, most things open and discarded, dirty makeup wipes littered across the space. Their faces aren’t much better; there’s black smeared all down Michael’s cheeks, Calum has remnants of lipstick streaked across the lower half of his face. Ashton clearly hasn’t let them touch him, but he’s staring at two different highlighters in his hands, unsure of which one to use. 

He laughs at the state of them, which draws Michael and Ashton’s attention. They all immediately begin yelling at him.

“Thank god you’re here-”

“Look what they did to me!”

“Please, it’s not the same as when you do it.”

“Will you please help us?”

“Okay!” He says, moving around to clap his hands over their mouths, silencing them. Calum’s giggling beside them and Luke glares; he’s the one who dragged him into this in the first place. Not that he’s really complaining. He’ll take any chance to be close to his boys, especially if it means he can help them. “I’ll help. One at a time, the rest of you will just have to be patient.” 

He moves to stand in front of Michael first, taking in the older boys raccoon eyes. Michael smiles, pleased to finally have Luke here. “Calum tried helping, but then he just kept getting it everywhere.”

“He didn’t let the makeup remover dry before reapplying it, which is part of the problem,” Luke says, finding an unused wipe and gently cleaning Michael’s face, careful to not rub too hard and irritate his skin. He fans his hands in front of Michael’s face, just like the first time. Ashton and Calum join in, flapping their hands ridiculously and circulating almost no air. Michael laughs and pushes them away; Luke’s heart feels fit to burst. 

Finding the already open pencil, Luke notes that he’ll need to order another one when he gets the chance. He can’t even be mad about the ruined product, really, too endeared by how hard they tried and how excited they are to try these new things. “Close,” He says. Calum and Ashton’s breath audibly hitch as he brings the liner to Michael’s eyelid. He just smiles and draws a tight line across both his lids, then instructs Michael to open his eyes. Michael immediately looks up, and Luke’s so stupidly happy about it that he has to press his lips together so his grin stays in check. Calum gasps when he pulls Michael’s lower lid down, painting the makeup across his waterline. 

When he’s finished, complete with a kiss to Michael’s forehead, he moves on to Ashton. “Did you just want highlighter again?” Ashton nods. “Can I put it in other places? Like, the inner corners of your eyes and your brow bone?’

“You know best, babe,” Ashton says, opening his hands as if to say  _ do your worst _ . “I’m your canvas.”

Luke snorts as Calum mutters, “Shut up.” Ashton laughs as well, but quiets down when Luke brings the brush to his cheek, opting to stare instead, watching Luke in one of his elements. It’s a little overwhelming, the attention Ashton’s always placed on the youngest boy, but Luke wouldn’t want it anywhere else except on all of them. So he ignores it best he can while swiping the brush over Ashton’s face, tapping his nose with it just to watch it scrunch up. “Close your eyes,” He orders, pleased when Ashton does, pleased with how easily they follow his instructions. Using his ring finger, he pats the powder into the corners of his eyes and across his brow. 

Calum whistles when Ashton opens his eyes, and Michael’s speechless for once. Luke doesn’t blame them; the way the glitter shines on Ashton’s face is breathtaking, catching in the lights and making him glow like a God among men. He can’t wait to see the pictures from the show later, the way the stage lights will enhance it even more. The kiss he places against Ashton’s temple lingers a bit.

“My turn,” Calum says when Luke finally moves in front of him, smiling cheekily before pulling Luke down into his lap. They all laugh at Luke’s embarrassing squeak and rosy cheeks, but Calum placates his pout with a light kiss.

“What are you wearing tonight?” Luke asks, surveying the different selections of lip glosses they have. 

“Just a white button down, black jeans.”

He hums, eventually settling on a deep pink that kind of reminds him of Michael’s lips, their naturally deep pigment that Luke’s always been a little jealous of. Tapping Calum’s cheek, a signal for him to part his lips a little, he carefully paints the color across his lower lip. Ashton and Michael’s gazes burn into his side, but it’s different when he’s not doing it to himself. They’re just watching him work in a sense, dividing their attention between Luke’s focus and Calum’s beauty. It’s comforting, Luke thinks, being so close to them all, doing their makeup with everyone else in the room. The process, while normally peaceful on himself, helps him breathe a little easier and centers his mind; he’s not worrying what everyone will say about him. He’s just focused on his boys, the sight of them in front of him and the feel of them under him, already knowing that they’ll look great.

The brush of lips to Calum’s forehead lets him know that Luke’s finished, and he squeezes his thighs in thanks. He climbs off his lap and takes a moment to admire all his work while they look at themselves in the mirror, double checking or admiring. Looking at them, Luke doesn’t know how the pieces of his heart could all be so beautiful; he silently promises himself, and them, that he’ll never take it for granted.

“This might just have to be a new pre-show routine, you doing our makeup,” Ashton says.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I’m not your personal servant.”

Secretly, he’s pleased, delighted even, and the smiles they all give him show that they know it. He’d happily do their makeup, do  _ anything _ , for them on any day, in any circumstance. 

“You should let us do your makeup now,” Michael suggests. Ashton and Calum look at him with pleading eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

**Author's Note:**

> well thank you thank you for reading. comments and kudos are always apprecaited of course.  
> come find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/escapesos) if u would like (i have a lot more writing w prompts and everything there!!) <3
> 
> title is from "cotton candy" by yungblud which i originally thought was about a poly relationship but im pretty sure is actually just about an orgy lmao


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